


Into the Void.

by SocialDeception



Category: Far Cry 3
Genre: Guns, Hate Sex, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 13:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2469566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDeception/pseuds/SocialDeception
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is another one of Vaas' tricks, isn't it...?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Into the Void.

**Author's Note:**

> To Cha1n. The infector of Vaas fever.  
> (And yes, it might be a bit awkward to dedicate smut like this to someone, but eh... *Shugs* I've never claimed NOT to be socially awkward.)
> 
> I knew I had to write this as soon as I played through the Payback mission. There was something about that symbolic penetration that caught my interest. *Ahum*

* * *

 

The world is spinning. Tipping sideways. Pulsing and vibrating. 

Time blurs and stands still as he pulls the dagger out of his belly, fire licking his hands as he does. 

_Fire...?_

Jason isn't sure. Maybe it's blood and it just seems like fire to his diseased mind.

 _Impossible..._  His thoughts sluggish as he looks at the blade. _Impossible. Citra has this dagger._

No pain, just a sickening replay of the sound the blade made going into flesh, the dull thump as hilt slammed into bone, and confusion over the dagger he holds in his hands. 

It feels real enough. 

The weight of it making his hand sag a little, the roughness of it almost hurting his fingers as he clutch it harder than he needs to. Desperately clinging on to it.

The bright neon lights seems even brighter now, hurting his eyes as he try to blink and adjust his eyes. The colours blending together into a bright light, and he can see Vaas disappearing into it, see his back as he's slipping away through his fingers yet again.

_Fuck..._

His eyelids feel heavy, and he knows it's a bad idea to close them, really fucking bad, because Vaas is somewhere near, he can feel him, smell him, taste him somehow, yet he can't help himself. He slumps over to his side.

 _Just for a second,_ Jason tries to reassure himself. _Just for a second._  

 

* * *

 

And maybe it is just a second. 

Maybe Vaas somehow had all the time in the world to change it all in just that one second, because when he opens them back up the world has changed again. Still spinning, but those bright light no longer in his eyes, 

Instead the world is black. Nausea and confusion rushing through him in sickening waves. 

_Is this water...?_  He holds out his hands to grab at it, like the darkness is a light veil of fabric he can yank away. 

_Fog...? What did he do to me...?_

Jason staggers, tries not to look down as TV screens appear under his feet, covered in fog, but awakening slowly with glimmering lights. He can see below them, above and to the side of the static waking up under him, and it's just an empty void. 

There's no world beyond this twisted trail of lights and fog. Blackness, but like mosaic. Like a kaleidoscope, the intricate blue pattern in the void around him moving, pulsing. 

_It's alive._

Covering the path of TV's in front of him with rolling red fog, a fog that vibrates and trembles.

This must be a dream. This isn't real. He expects a crackling sound when he worryingly takes a step forward, expecting the crackling sound of newly formed ice, but there's not a single sound.

But what's real?  _Is anything real anymore?_  He clutches his head, tries to focus.

_I have to kill him._

That's the only single important thing right now. The only thing that matters. The only thing he's truly sure of.

_Kill Vaas. Kill him. Hurt him. Make him suffer._

Ugly resentment filling every last cell in his body.

He moves forward, carefully, still not trusting what's under his feet or what awaits him ahead, trying to grasp at soft orbs of light as they flies towards him, but his fingers clutch nothing but thin air.

Bright light again, and he looks up, sees himself standing there in front of him. Jason shouldn't be surprised. This is all part of Vaas' tricks. Vaas' fucking tricks. Trying to fuck with him. 

_This isn't real!  
_  
Yet, it's him. It's him, a flickering false image of him with a gun in its hand, and Jason doesn't move as the creature lifts it's arm,  _his arm_  and points it at its head. 

Jason's breath catches in his throat, halfway expecting to feel the cool metal against his own temple. Halfway expecting the creature to aim straight for him next, but it doesn't. Instead it stands straight like a soldier, as a  _warrior_ , with the gun to its temple, emotionless and as void as the world around them. 

_My God, what if it fires? Will it somehow kill me too?  
_  
But he knows it isn't true. He's been here before, hasn't he? He's encountered this shadowy world before, yet it feels different this time. He stares at it, stares at himself as there's a flicker, and it turns into Vaas. 

Vaas stands there like a sick caricature, mocks him, imitating the pose. 

Jason swallows, his fists balled up so hard he can feel his fingernails dig into his flesh, another flicker, and it's back to him again, back to himself standing there, and he tries to hold on to his sanity, because this is fucking  _insane_. 

_Vaas, what the fuck are you doing?  
_  
Is he thinking the words, or screaming them into the void? He doesn't know, and it doesn't matter.

Then it doesn't matter anymore, because Citra's voice is all around him, whispering words he can't hear anymore, because the screaming inside his head is too fucking loud.

_Vaas, Vaas, I will fucking kill you! Vaas!_

Forcing himself to take a step forward and it's the right thing to do, it's the right thing to do, because the image of him shine brightly for a second before it dissolves in blue coils. 

_Nice fucking party trick Vaas._ His voice an angry sneer in his head, although he can barely hear his thoughts over the static in the air.

His steps less unsure now, stepping on those fucking TV's, each step a step closer to Vaas' death.

But there...  _What the fuck._

He stares in disbelief as another image reveals itself to him. 

Citra, this time. Curving her spine around a stripper pole, but it's not Citra, is it...? 

Citra isn't here. It's Vaas, and confusion clouds his head as Vaas hooks his leg around the pole.

"... Balancing point."  
  
Vaas is saying something, except he can't be, because his lips aren't moving, yet Jason can hear his voice inside his head, like he's in there. And he is, isn't he? Vaas has gotten inside his head, because as he watch him twirl around the pole, something wakes up in him. Something demanding. Something dangerous and unexpected.

More TV screens. All eyes. All eyes on Vaas, including Jason's, because he can't look away. Can't keep his eyes off of Vaas, can't look away from all those staring eyes forming a stage for Vaas to take control over, a stage as crooked and wrong as this whole island, as he twists and arches his back, spreading his legs as he twirls around the metal.

_Spread your legs for me..._

Citra again, her slender shape replacing Vaas in a flicker, and Jason bites the inside of his cheeks when he realizes he's disappointed. Not for long though, because she dissolves into bright light too, like Vaas and Jason before her. All those TV screens dissolving with her, turning back into that flickering blue fog. 

He keeps on walking. He knows what's coming, knows this can't be the end of Vaas' little game,and for each step he takes the road curves ahead, little tick-tick-tickering sounds as the TV's are turned on below him, illuminating the path he must take.

Light again, above him this time, and he's horrified, yet he can't look away from the scene unfolding over his head. Him, on his back, with Citra's writhing body on top of him, his hands greedily on her breasts, raking his fingers over her nipples as she rolls her hips. 

_Is Vaas watching me fuck his sister...?_

The TV's so bright now, lighting up every part of his face as he stares up at himself, stares at it, and for a fraction of a second it's like the image changes, like before, but horribly wrong now, Vaas on top of him, Jason's hands caressing his muscular torso, no longer soft curves, but hard muscle, and it's like he can feel it, really feel it.

The unfamiliarity of strange new shapes as he slides his hands over Vaas' chest, over the light dusting of hair. And Vaas' voice is there again, filling his head with words he can't process, because he's up there, in the ceiling, surrounded by flickering lights, fucking Vaas. 

The light pulses and there's a change again, Vaas fucking Citra now,  _fucking his own sister,_  but Jason can't look away. His eyes burn as he's forcing them open, forcing himself to take in that horrible image, and he's no longer sure which part of it bothers him the most.

"You are strong...  _Powerful_ ". Citra's voice, tantalizing and whispering. Is she speaking to him? Or Vaas? 

All the TV screens staring too, those eyes again. 

He's seen the drawing of the big white eye before, saw it as he was entering Vaas' warehouse. Maybe even before then? It feels like it's always been a part of him, but for now he focuses on that single memory of him seeing the eye as he walked into Vaas' domain. It made him as uncomfortable then as it does now. Such a simple drawing, really, just a simplistic version of an eye, but something about it makes his head swim.

Yet he keeps staring, stares until his eyes dries, stares until it's shut off again, until he's covered in darkness again, illuminated only by the flying specs of light, and the fog at his feet, urging him forward.

He's allowed to breathe, time functioning normally as he feels sand under his feet, sees green leaves around him. Making him feel like he's part of the jungle again, that warm embrace of the jungle that awoke something deep in him.

He feels the sand, but he can't see it. 

A bright panel lights up in front of him, showing him the way, showing the steps of a staircase in front of him, each step he takes turning another panel of light on, and another, and another. He can see Vaas now. He's sitting on top of this mysterious contraption of sand and lights, except when he reach the top he realize the sand is merely fog covering up another floor made of TV sets.

_Always those TV screens..._

Jason wonders what the significance is, but that thought disappears as Vaas stands up from the chair he was sitting on, raises up from the fog like some kind of apparition. His mouth moves, but Jason can't hear the words. Everything flickers like those old VHS tapes, Like his eyeballs is somehow wired to an old cassette player. Vaas swings his hips from side to side, almost dancing, his hands up to his face, index fingers extended.

_What is this...?_

"...Make a warrior out of you..."

Vaas moves towards him now, still swaying, hypnotically, and Jason doesn't feel afraid. Doesn't even feel the anger anymore. Feeling something else entirely. 

"You are so fucked Jason." Vaas is in his face, fingers aimed at him, and he clicks his tongue.  "C'mon, pull the trigger."

And it's suddenly there in his hand. The metal cool against his skin.

_Where did...?  
_  
He doesn't know, he just feels that deep need to point the muzzle at Vaas' head, shove that cold metal against his skin. 

So he does. 

His hand does not feel like his own anymore as he raises it, but Vaas doesn't shy away from it like expected, instead he lashes out and clutches Jason's hand with both of his. His skin warm and rough, his fingers trembling as he presses the muzzle harder into his own forehead.

"C'mon motherfucker! Pull the trigger! Let's go! Shoot me!" Vaas is shouting now, his voice cracking and desperate.

But Jason can't do it.  
  
"Put me out of my misery..." It's just a whisper, but it's enough.

Jason tries to lower the gun, but Vaas doesn't let go of his hands, his grip feverishly, falling to his knees as he moves the gun from his own forehead to his chest. 

_His eyes..._

Jason can't stop looking into the other mans eyes, knelt in front of him, staring up at him, his mouth still moving, but not a sound penetrates Jason's head. This image is so familiar; Vaas on his knees in front of him, mouth open and inviting.

A flash of light. A dull vibration. _Did Vaas pull the trigger...?_

It's like they are falling now, falling into that void, and somewhere Vaas loses his grip around Jason's hands, simply lets go and disappears into the fog, and Jason finds himself trying to grab a hold of him before he does.

_What. The. Fuck._ Something is wrong with him. It's the fog. It's messing with his head somehow.

Yet he can feel himself smiling. That wide smirk stitched across his fucking face, smiling as he lifts his hand, expecting the knife, but finding a machine gun.

Another tick-tick-tickering as the TV screens are back, always there, always under his feet, snaking on ahead.

There's music in the air, but that might just be inside his head too. Or maybe the static just intensified? Yet it urge him forward.

"You are me." Vaas' voice in the darkness around him. "And... I... Am... You"  
  
Jason chokes on his breath again as Vaas laughs. That small, soft laugh that tugs at something inside of him.  
  
Looking straight in front of him, it's like the twisted kaleidoscope has turned into a giant eye, like he's swimming in one of Vaas' blue eyes. 

"The same."

But he can't stop now. He has to keep going. Needs to find Vaas.

He licks his lips.

He's back at the poker table. His luck is about to change. It's  _just_ about to change now.

And there he is. 

Vaas charges with the knife, arm raised, those crazy eyes glittering in the pulsing light, runs out of nothing, appearing like a ghost, and no hesitation anymore as Jason raises the gun and fires a rapid round into the manifestation of Vaas, not even surprised as he merely dissolves into blue smoke.

Another one charges at him. And another. And another.

A million Vaas'. All heat and fire and hate and death, charging at him, sometimes managing to sink the blade in Jason before the bullets tear the image of him apart. Sometimes he runs into Jason. The heat from his body making Jason's chest tight, the twisting dark fog is inside of him now, inside of him as he pushes Vaas off him, fights through an endless number of groping hands.

And he shoots. He fires. Endless rounds of bullets.

Enjoys the recoil as each bullet penetrates Vaas' body, breathes in the smoke as he fades into the air around him. Breathes it in, coughing, coughing until he gags, but he keeps right on breathing him in. He can't stop.

"Why won't you die?!?" Jason can hear himself screaming out the words, but deep down he knows why. Knows he isn't even really trying anymore.

Shakingly he draws breath to call out his name, but the words dies on his lips as he reappears in front of him.

Rapid thuds as hard bullets find yielding flesh, sharp metallic clunks as he reloads. His fingers so used to the routine. Finger on the trigger, fire, reload. Repeat forever. It all comes so naturally to him now, and he wonders what he ever did before he entered Vaas' world.

Teeth bared and gritted as he push forward, knocks down Vaas over and over until time is all wrong again.

Vaas' hands on him burns, like that fire inside him, until he realize Vaas is actually on fire, burning as he bolts towards him, shooting at him like fireballs. Engulfing him in suffocating heat, fingers of pure fire clutching his arms, his waist, his back. Vaas is urging him on, almost dancing in place before he charges, not even acknowledging the fire licking his body. 

Another round. Another reload. Another body dissipating in the air.

Jason is just about to give up, just about to toss the fucking gun, kneel down and just let Vaas fucking have him, but there.

_There._

Another neon panel lighting up, lighting up steps again, and Vaas. Vaas is there. And Jason knows this must be the real Vaas. 

_This is it._

So he walks slowly up those stairs, pretending not to notice that the platform he's on somehow resembles a warped and crooked cross. No longer caring about what he's turning his back to, just takes his time, ascending that staircase, Vaas' arms outstretched, as if he's waiting for an embrace.

"Take me into your heart!" Vaas screams, and Jason wonders what he means by that, because he's already there, he's already in his heart and his mind. Festering.

Still, he ignores what Vaas is shouting, instead charging, dagger raised, because of course it's the dagger again. It's always the dagger. Handle rough against his fingers.

And they do the dance. Hot skin against hot skin, tense muscle strained against tense muscle. Forced together, so close, and they breathe each other in, hot body pressed against hot body.

Jason have been close to the other pirates.  _Too_ close, really, and Vaas is so different. A spicy, almost sweet scent sticks to his skin, musky and confusing.

Vaas dodge his attacks, dance from side to side as Jason keeps on swinging that blade. It slides through the air, silky metallic sounds so close to Vaas' head.

Jason feels his grin widen, wolfish and cruel as Vaas stops Jason's arm with his own, dagger shaking as it's aimed for his neck.

He grins because he can feel Vaas' arm tremble. Weakened.

The air is hot, tasting vaguely like something metallic, and they lock eyes together. And he can feel his smile die, as there's something in Vaas' eyes that makes him unsure. 

Vaas looks weary. Tired. Defeated. Deep shadows under his eyes, and he feels a flicker of sadness for Vaas then, but only a flicker, because Vaas chuckles. 

_Oh, this is amusing to you?  
_  
Jason bares his teeth and drops the dagger, drops it so he can grasp it with his free hand. Vaas doesn't move, doesn't try to block, just stares in disbelief as the dagger falls impossibly slow into Jason's hand.

That familiar grip around the handle and he plunges it forward, meeting some resistance as the blade goes in, but it's soon buried to the hilt in hot, pliant flesh. 

Vaas gasps, just a sharp intake of breath, really, blinking a few times before his eyes go wide with shock as the dagger slides in him, hot blood squirting over Jason's hand and chest.

Jason pulls out the dagger, only to impale Vaas's body again, over and over, stabbing that blade in him. Vaas's eyes are so wide, searching his face as the dagger slides in. Eyes locked together as icy relief flush over Jason.

_It's over. It's over. It's over.  
  
_ Each word so perfectly in tune with each thrust of the blade. And he's suddenly so aware of his own heartbeat, pumping against his ribs.

Yet... There's something wrong with this. Something is not right about this situation.

Vaas stares at him, and something has changed in his expression. It's alien and hungry. Jason stares back for a second, unsure again, because that isn't the face of a man who's dying. Vaas isn't dying at all.

_This isn't over..._

Hot flashes of fog and light and Jason's mouth falls open when he looks down, sees that he has Vaas pinned naked on the ground under him, fucking him. No dagger anymore, he's clutching his own dick.

His shoulders slump, because this is all wrong. This isn't what he wants. This isn't what he came here for.

"Fu-uck Jason.  _Jason_ " Vaas grabs his wrists, and something deep in Jason responds to how softly he speaks his name. "Please hermano, no, no, don't stop"

But Jason hesitates. 

_How did...? Did Vaas mess with time again?_

He can't let go of Vaas. Holds on to him,  _clings_  to him, as if he's the only thing keeping him from losing his mind.

Vaas's mouth is slightly parted, his lips wet with anticipation. He stares at Jason's lips, but Jason doesn't lean down to kiss him. He can't. He _won't_. This isn't sex. This isn't love. It's not even lustful fucking. It's revenge. Pure, fiery hatred, hot, boiling, sweet revenge. And he clings to that explanation, just as he still clings to Vaas, clings to him as he fucks him. Each dizzying thrust enough to draw throaty groans from his lips. 

_So confusing._

His eyes are clouded as he stares at Vaas, stares while Vaas wraps his legs around Jason's hips, pulling him in closer, and flashes of the hallucination he had earlier pulses through him as he mirrors it, putting his hands on Vaas' chest, let them follow hard muscle until he slides his hands around to the small of his back.

His hands twitch as he pulls him in closer, sinking his entire length into the other man.

"Fuuuck. Jason. Please, please, please"

And Jason can't stop now, he pants, leans over the pirate, leans onto him as he thrusts, grabs handfuls of whatever parts of him he can, squeezing, fondling. Cursing Vaas for shaving his head, fingers scraping against stubble, trying to hold on to something, trying to hurt him. Needing to hurt him. Digs his fingers into the jagged line of the scar running across Vaas's forehead, laps his tongue over salty skin.

_I can't stop now. I can't stop...!_

This strange new feeling pulsing through him, animatistic. He wants to claim him. Brand him as his. Fuck him until there's nothing left of either of them.

"Who has the dick now, Vaas? Who's the bitch?"  
  
And he enjoys the look on Vaas's face as he recognize his own words. How his eyes widen even though they are completely lost with desire, his mouth hanging open.

"I got you. I fucking _got_ you". Jason pants, still trying to justify his actions, but deep down he knows this runs deeper than that.

Chest tight with shallow breaths, heartbeat so loud in his ears it tunes out everything else. Hot blood so sicklingly bittersweet on his lips as he bites Vaas's shoulder, trying to shut him up. Vaas lets out a hitching exhale as teeth breaks the skin.

"This is fucked up, Jason," he pants. 

Jason doesn't answer, just grunts as he hooks his elbow under Vaas's knee, hoisting him up so he can angle better, and Vaas arche into the thrust. 

Vaas' face is so glorious. Jason doesn't want to admit it, but looking at Vaas' face make something in him knot up and burn. His eyes are shut tightly together, biting his lip, fingers desperately clawing at Jason's shirt, grabbing fistful of fabric as Jason presses his pelvis against him.

Jason follow his example, pressing his eyes so tightly together it hurts, tries to tune out Vaas' face, Vaas' moans. Vaas' hands clutching him.

It's more than fucking. He can't escape the fact that he's fucking Vaas and he's fucking enjoying it.

Yet, his skin prickles at how close they are. Feeling almost invaded every time Vaas speaks, every time he touch him, every time he meets his thrusts.

Jason wants to scream. Scream until his face splits. Scream until all of this is over.

Yet he keeps going.

He can't stop. It's almost over. He can't stop now or it's all been for nothing.

His dick hard as a rock, relentlessly impaling the other man.

So intense. Feverish and desperate. Vaas's tightness around him almost painful, and he's sure this must be torture for Vaas.

Although, looking at Vaas's face, he's not so sure he's really punishing him. That this really is torture. Even though he's invading his body, invading every part of him.

Skin crawling. 

"Fu-uck, Jaso-on. Fuck. You like that, huh? You like fucking me like this? Huh? Pretty-boy?"  
  
Jason's mind swims. He can't form any sentences, and the only thing escaping his lips as a drawn-out moan. He growls, trying to cover up the slip, trying to cover up his weakness, but Vaas sees through him, that wide smile plastered across his face. 

"Fuck you". He plants a hand on Vaas's chest, pushing him down against the ground, enjoying the small grunt of dissatisfaction coming from Vaas as he digs his fingernails into his chest.

"Fuck you" And that's all he knows how to say. Mind screaming with more eloquent words, but body drowning in lust and passion. Blinding hate and all-engulfing horror at what he's doing. A sob escapes his lips, and he wonder where that gun is. Where that dagger is. 

Fingers and dick not hurting Vaas, not hurting him enough.

He stops. Stops and Vaas whimper again.

"Fuck. Fuck you. You fucking chicken-shit. Keep going. Fuck, Jason, keep going".

Vaas never shuts up, not even while he narrows his eyes in confusion when Jason feels around the floor around them with his free hand, still firmly embedded in Vaas' body.

And there.

_Fucking there._

Hand grasp that familiar cool metal, his fingers wrap around it. 

_Instinctively_ _._

His brain can't process anything. Nothing is more important or relevant than the look on Vaas' face.

A flicker of horror as the gun comes into view. Just for a fraction of a fraction of a second until his face tightens.

"Do it" Vaas commands. His voice steady and harsh. "Fucking do it".

He grabs a hold of Vaas' hips with one hand, pulling him closer, marveling at how tight Vaas is, how he's clenched up around him, and he aims the gun at Vaas' head, aiming it before finally pushing it against his forehead.

"C'mon motherfucker" Vaas is nothing but an echo now, an echo of past encounters. "Fucking pull the trigger!".

A deep throaty laugh that ends in a gasp as Jason impales him, fucking him harder into the ground, each thrust right on that verge of pleasure and pain. Free hand digging into Vaas' flesh.

"Shut up! SHUT! UP!" Jason presses the gun so hard into the other man's forehead he can see the imprint left on his skin.  
  
But he doesn't shut up. An endless stream of Spanish leaves his lips, and Jason doesn't even try to decipher it, instead he tilts the gun and hits the side of Vaas' head with the grip of the gun.

"Shut the FUCK up."

Vaas laughs. Laughs as blood trickles down the side of his mouth. Spits blood into the void and keeps right on talking.

"So white boy? You enjoying this? Huh? You wanna be a warrior?"  
  
_Why won't you shut up...  
  
_ Jason doesn't think, just acts again, as he leans down, moving the gun from Vaas' cheek to his temple, shutting him up the only way he has left; He takes Vaas' mouth in a hard and crushing kiss, deep and aggressive. Ignores the metallic taste of blood, ignores it or savours it, he can't really be sure.

And Vaas shuts up. Goes almost limp in his grip.

And this.

_Oh my God._

This is something completely foreign, the wrongness of the kiss igniting something far deeper in them. Both of them panting, hungrily devouring the others mouth, not getting enough. Begging without words for more. 

Then terror as that familiar prickling sensation start. The intensity of the sensation somehow both frightening and incredible.

But he knows he can't end it like this, so he pull away from him, pointing the gun at the man under him.

"Finish" he sneers. 

And Vaas understands. He complies without complaint, his bandaged fingers wrap around his own dick, jerking himself off as Jason fucks him.

Hungry eyes, hungry mouth, hungry movements as he fucks him. Fucks him as Vaas picks up pace, panting, face strained and buried in lust.

That warm, melting feeling in his spine as Vaas tightens around him in rhythmic spasms. Vaas shuts his eyes again, every part of his body quivering, and he bites his lips before opening his eyes again. 

And it's so intense. 

So fucking intimate when their eyes lock together, although Vaas isn't fully there anymore, lost in the moment, lost in whatever this is. A moan as he comes over his own stomach, body jerking slightly as he rides the orgasm, mumbling nonsensical words.

And there's a sound coming from deep inside Jason, a rush of blood as his balls knot, and he can't help it, he leans down for another kiss. An angry, ugly, open-mouthed kiss as he empties himself into Vaas, clings desperately to him for a second, moans into his mouth, shuddering and hating himself for the intimacy they are sharing.

They hold each other for a moment. Both tremble a little as they kiss. Their lips part, but they push their heads together. Eyes closed, breathing heavily.  
  
"Fuck..." Vaas can't hold himself up any longer, and he falls back onto the floor, eyes still closed, a slight smile playing at his lips.

Jason feels drained. Drained and defeated, and he collapse on the floor next to Vaas. Rolling onto his back, he turns his head slightly, stares at Vaas, and Vaas stares back. Stares back with those eyes that still confuse Jason. 

Back in the void. Back in the kaleidoscope. Nothing is resolved. Nothing has changed.

But... As Vaas lace their fingers together, Jason realize something  _has_ changed. Something  _is_  different.

And Jason clings to that. Clings to it and clings to Vaas. Like he always does.

_This time-_

_-Please, let it be different this time._

 

 


End file.
